Ice on Oscar Sunday

Shortly after I woke up this morning, I thought about two things:

1) A bunch of really hungry women in Hollywood get to eat tonight after the Oscars are over and
2) It would be really cool to find a box of jewelry destined for an A-list actress accidentally sitting on the side of the road. But I would return the jewelry. Eventually. I think.

To bring myself back down to reality, I checked out what was happening in the news. The same old same old was going on in the world, so I went to make myself a cup of tea.

My husband wandered into the kitchen and mumbled good morning. I said, "Hey, good morning. Ralph Nader's running for president."

He stopped in his tracks, looked at me like I was crazy, turned and walked out of the room. Five minutes later he re-emerged, saying, "I'm going to Starbucks."

A couple minutes after he left, the phone rang. I could see from the caller ID that it was him so I answered, thinking he was going to say, "Have you seen my wallet?"

Instead, he said, "Dudes in ice jackets are swarming all over our neighborhood!"

Ice jackets? What? I was confused. Was this a throwback to Vanilla Ice or something? "Ice jackets?" I asked.

"I-C-E! Immigration and Customs Enforcement! They're doing an immigration raid in our neighborhood."

"Are you kidding?"

"Nope. There's a bunch of them down the hill from us. It looks like they're standing guard."

I quickly hung up the phone, grabbed my camera and ran outside to check out what was going on. It was raining hard, which is enough to keep everyone inside. But the street seemed eerily quiet for another reason. I looked to my right and sure enough, two white vans were parked in the middle of the street. Some menacing guys in black jackets were standing on the sidewalk in front of the building three doors down. They had that ultra alert stance that you only see in cops and drug dealers.

I walked toward them and they turned to look at me. The way these guys were staring me down was not at all friendly. But I wanted to get a picture of what was happening. So I walked a little closer and pulled out my camera.

One guy began walking my way and barked, "Ma'am, put that camera away. Put it away or we're going to take it."

What in the world? The last time I got a camera confiscated by the police, I was living in China. This isn't China though. This is supposed to be the United States, the country Michelle Obama's proud of. But I felt afraid. So I turned around and quickly walked back to my building. Thankfully, the officer did not pursue me.

Ten minutes later, I saw the white van drive past. I poked my head outside and looked down the hill. Everything looked like it would look on a rainy Sunday morning with no sign that the ICE folks had ever been here.

And of course, in a few short hours, less than two miles from here, some of the wealthiest residents of this city will be stepping onto the red carpet, dripping with a different kind of "ice".

I'd been wishing I had some of that ice. And now some of my neighbors have been carted away by ICE.

Such is this city.